Mom's The Word
by Sir Sebastian
Summary: Ron faces his scariest mission yet: spending the Valentine's Day with his mom.


**Author's Note: **This story was super-rushed to meet the deadline of Slipgate's Valentine's Contest, so it hasn't been beta'd, and it's hot off the press, so to speak. So any mistakes or just plain stupidities are going to be fixed just as soon as I can get the story to my beta. Maybe I'll even do something about the ending. Until then, I hope you can still enjoy my entry.

**Update:** The story didn't make the deadline, and is not an official contest entry. / I have made some minor tweaks and corrections. Still need to fix the ending.

**Disclaimer:** Characters used and abused in this fic are the product and property of people way smarter - and cooler - than I. I have my way with them for my own twisted amusement - and hopefully yours.

Kim Possible © Disney

* * *

**Mom's The Word**

_a Kim Possible fanfic, by Sir Sebastian_

≈O≈

"You're WHERE?"

Kim had to hold the phone at arm's length to avoid ear damage. As she had expected, Ron did not take the news well.

She brought the phone back to her cheek. "I'm really sorry, Ron. You know how much I wanted to be there, but we're snowed in."

Ron was upset. This was only their second Valentine's Day as a couple and Kim wasn't going to be here. "But it's V-Day. I even remembered this time," he whined.

"I know, and I'm really sorry."

Ron groaned very unhappily.

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You better," Ron grumbled.

"Okay, I gotta go. Love you."

"Love you, too, KP."

Ron put down the phone not feeling any better despite Kim's promise to make up for her absence. It was the one day he could have spent the entire day with Kim and have pulled out all the stops without looking like a love-sick puppy. And now, instead of pampering his badical BFGF all day, he'd have to spend it with... _the 'rents_.

The horror.

Ron could have gone back to his dorm room and played video games all day, but he was told by his roommate to be anywhere else. So, rather than wander around the Middleton Community College campus looking at all the lovey-dovey couples, he went home. At least there he could retreat to his room, aka the attic, and hold fort until Kim returned.

It was a solid plan, but...

≈O≈

After getting home, Ron went to get some snacks from the kitchen. He found his mom nursing a cup of tea. She stared off into space, and even though she didn't wear a discernable expression, Ron thought she looked a little blue.

"You okay, mom?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine, Ronnie. What are you doing home?"

"Kim's snowed in somewhere in Canada, so I thought I'd visit you guys."

"I'm sorry, Honey. I know how you love Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, well.. Did dad forget, or what?"

"Actually, he remembered this time."

Ron flopped down on the chair opposite his mom. "So, why are you looking so down?"

"They have this big meeting over in Denver, and he has to be there for two days."

"A meeting on Valentine's Day? What kind of loveless monsters do they have in insurance?"

"Your father's boss is a sad little toad who's probably never had a date in his life," Mrs. Stoppable said acidly. "Don't tell your father I said that," she added hastily.

"Why didn't you go with him?"

"I didn't want to impose."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have-"

"Besides, I made him promise to make it up when he got back. With flowers and candy, the whole nine yards." She heard Ron sigh softly. "You miss Kimberly?"

"Yeah, but that's not-," Ron said, stopping mid-sentence.

"I take it you had made some pretty big plans for tonight?"

"It was nothing big, just something I thought she'd appreciate," Ron said. In truth, he had planned the evening for quite some time. Though it wasn't the exact date, it had been fifteen years since he and Kim had met in Pre-K, and he was prepared to take their relationship to the next level.

"I'm sure she'd love anything you came up with, as long as you made the effort." Then she chuckled. "Aren't we a pair? Dateless on Valentine's Day."

"Well, I'm used to it, I guess," Ron lamented.

Mrs. Stoppable looked at her son, forlorn and despondent, and she was suddenly struck with a boost of determination. She slammed her teacup down, almost shattering the plate. "That's it. We're not going to just mope around the house feeling sorry for ourselves. We're stepping out, and we're going to have fun, dammit!"

Ron froze, looking not unlike a deer caught in headlights. "Out? You and me? Together?"

"Is it so horrible to be seen with your mother?" Mrs. Stoppable asked.

"Yes!" Ron exclaimed instantly. "I mean _no_," he backpedaled.

"That settles it. We need some serious Mother-Son time, stat."

Ron dragged his hands across his face in desperation. "Mom, please don't do this."

"We need this. When was the last time we spent any time together?"

"There was that one time last year," Ron offered.

"Three hours waiting in the ER for them to pull out the toy car you stuck up your nose does not count."

"I was only trying to show Hana what not to do," he defended himself.

Then it hit him: Hana!

"What about Hana?" he threw in the last-ditch effort. "Where are we gonna get a sitter on Valentine's Day?"

From shadows Ron and his mother didn't even notice were there, a pair of black-clad ninjas emerged, causing Ron to give a high-pitched shriek.

"It would be our honor to take care of _The Han_, Stoppable-sama," one of the ninjas said, as both of them bowed deeply.

"Dudes, do you ever knock!" Ron admonished them after recovering from the shock.

"Ronald, who are these people?" Mrs. Stoppable asked.

"Oh, right. Mom: Yamanouchi Ninjas, Yamanouchi Ninjas: Mom," Ron did the unusual introduction. Or it would have been for anyone else.

"We are honored to meet Mrs. Stoppable-sama."

"Likewise.. I guess," Mrs. Stoppable replied.

"So, not to be rude, but what are you doing here?" Ron asked.

"We heard you needed someone to take care of _The Han_ for the night."

"Okay, first of all: her name is Hana. Not 'The Han'."

"Our apologies. _Hana_, a most fitting name."

"Excuse me," Mrs. Stoppable interjected, "did you just offer to babysit Hana?"

"It would be our honor."

"Can we trust them?" she asked Ron in a hushed tone behind her hand.

"Sure. As much you _can_ trust trained assassins."

It didn't take much more to convince her. She jumped up. "Well, then, I'm going upstairs to change. Ron, you show them the ropes."

After a moment of scratching his neck, Ron began to instruct the ninjas in the fine - not to mention dangerous - art of Hana-sitting.

≈O≈

Having already instructed the black-clad babysitters and changed into a sharp suit - the suit had been a gift from Kim on their one-year anniversary - Ron stood in the living room watching the oddest sight: two ninjas playing with a hyper two-year-old. They did their best playing hide and seek with their ninja vanishing skills, only to be found out in ten seconds flat each time.

Ron heard his mom coming down the stairs and went to the foyer - and was dumbstruck by the vision waiting for him.

His mother wore a simple black evening gown with straps. Her hair had been let down, with a little bun in the back with a few locks jutting out in a controlled messy fashion. She had even switched her glasses to ones with a more contemprorary and stylish frame. In a word – she was gorgeous.

Rufus scurried out of Ron's pocket and gave Mrs. Stoppable an appreciative whistle.

If it wasn't for the fact that the woman standing before him was his mother, the word "hot" would have been the first in his mind, but since she was, he settled for, "You're beautiful, mom."

"Don't sound so surprised," she replied, playful in her taken offense. She gave her son an appreciative once-over. "You're quite dashing yourself."

Ron also noticed, thanks to the form-fitting evening gown, that mom had some killer curves. The fact that he had noticed her body made him start calculating how much of his future paychecks would be spent on therapy.

Ron went back to the ninjas to tell them they were leaving.

"Uh, Rufus," Mrs. Stoppable called to the naked mole-rat, "Can I have word?"

The pink rodent ran to her and she picked him up. "Would you mind staying here and helping with Hana? I think Ronald and I need to spend a little time together, just the two of us."

Rufus' shoulders slumped, but he vocalized a yielding "Fine."

Mrs. Stoppable gave him a kiss on the head, making the little guy blush. "Thank you," she smiled.

As Ron stepped in the living room, Hana jumped at him and into his arms.

"Brother," the little girl cooed.

"You be good now, Kiddo. We'll be back soon," Ron said to his latched on sister. The girl pouted as Ron put her down.

"Be careful with her," Ron warned the ninjas.

"We can assure you, no harm will come to Hana."

"I'd be more worried about yourselves," Ron said ominously and left, leaving the ninjas looking at each other with a mix of confusion and worry.

Surely a small child couldn't be of any danger?

Then Hana ran up a wall, did a couple of laps in the ceiling, dropped on the couch, and bounced off it, landing on one ninja's back.

What had they gotten themselves into?

≈O≈

Mrs. Stoppable felt like she had stepped into another world. A world where up was down, left was right, and food eats people. She had dressed up only because she so rarely got to do so, but she was at most expecting to maybe seeing a movie, or going to the Pizzatorium for some of that burped pizza smell she'd been hearing about. But Ron insisted that even though Kim wasn't there, they shouldn't let their reservations go to waste. So, here she was, sitting at one of the finest tables Chez Couteaux had to offer, being treated like royalty.

When they had arrived at the restaurant in their poison green Ford Taurus, she had completely expected to be turned back. But when the vallet had approached them and noticed her son, his attitude had changed from "Sir, I think you have the wrong address", to "Sir, how thoroughly do you want your butt kissed?"

On their way to the table Ron wondered about a section of the room that was cleared of tables. It just seemed like bad business to have so much unused space. Almost immediately after they had been seated the waiter appeared at their table and placed menus on the table. He was a fit caucasian man in his fifties, with the slightest appearance of gray in his short, flawlessly done hair.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Stoppable. Will Ms. Possible be joining us this evening?"

"No, tonight it's just me and my mom," Ron replied.

"Very nice, sir," the waiter said and looked at Mrs. Stoppable. "_Very_ nice, indeed."

After being rewarded with a slight blush the waiter returned to business. "Can I start you off with something while you decide what to order? Perhaps your usual Coke on the rocks?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Ron said.

"Very good, sir," the waiter said and turned to Mrs. Stoppable. "And for the lady?"

"Um, I'll just have a white wine," she said, still feeling a little shocked and out of place.

The waiter left, and returned promptly with their drinks. As soon as he left again, Mrs. Stoppable turned to her son.

"How in the world did you get reservations for this place? And why do they know you so well?" she asked.

"There was this favor Kim and me did for them," Ron said.

"Must have been some favor."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I really shouldn't be talking about it."

"Why? Is it an 'I could tell you but I'd have to kill you' kinda secret?" Ron's mom smiled.

"No," Ron said, but then started looking around scared, "At least I hope not."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's just that we promised we wouldn't talk about it, and the owner promised to always bump us on the reservation list and give us a nice discount."

"Say no more."

Ron and his mom focused on the menus, trying to make sense of the French.

"I'm having a hard time deciding," Mrs. Stoppable said.

"Can't understand what it says?" Ron asked casually.

"Not one word," she grinned. "You've been here before, can you recommend anything?"

"I usually just ask the waiter what's good. Or let Kim choose for me."

Mrs. Stoppable studied the menu for a few moments more and put it down just as their waiter approached the table.

"Let me handle this," she said.

"Have you decided?" The waiter said, giving both of them his friendliest look.

"I'm feeling like chicken. Do you have anything on the spicy side?"

"Yes, we have a nice Cilantro Chutney Chicken, with a garlic and ginger rub, baked in a _divine_ cashew cream."

"You sold me, I'll have that."

"And for Mr. Stoppable?"

"He seems like a beef guy, don't you think?"

"I do believe he would enjoy our Filet Mignon. It's made with a rich balsamic glaze and served with steamed asparagus and baby red potatoes."

"Perfect," Mrs. Stoppable concluded, ignoring the face Ron was making - no doubt to the asparagus.

"Excellent choices. We'll have them ready as soon as possible," The waiter said as he picked up their menus. He then turned and left the table to pass on their orders.

"So," Mrs. Stoppable said, "do you and Kimberly come here often?"

"Just on special occasions. Even with the discount this place taps me out."

"So, I take it things are going well with you two?"

"I guess," Ron replied indifferently.

Mrs. Stoppable frowned at her son. "Don't do that," she said sternly.

"Do what?" he replied, averting his gaze.

"Shut me out. I know you're a teenager and you don't like talking about this stuff, but I'm your mother and I'd like for you to open up to me more. You never tell me anything."

"That's not true."

"When was the last time you talked to me or your father about your missions? Or your relationship with Kimberly?"

"It's like you said, I don't like talking about that stuff."

"We both know that's not the whole truth."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really think parents don't talk to each other? I talk to Anne almost every day, mostly about you."

"Who's Anne?"

"Your girlfriend's mother."

"Oh."

"See? You don't even know her first name and you tell her things you don't tell me."

"Mom, trust me, you don't want to know."

"Don't you think I have the right to decide for myself? You're my son, and if I want to know what's going on with you I have to turn on the news. Or call your girlfriend's mother."

"Why the sudden interest? You've never really asked me about this stuff before."

"I know, I know," Ron's mom said with a tinge of guilt. "I saw that interview you gave when you uncovered all those traps and monitoring systems Gemini had put in the Middleton Mall. Remember, the host asked you how your parents were taking your missions. Do you remember what you said?"

"I'm not sure."

"You told them we don't really bother you about that stuff."

"Well, you don't."

Mrs. Stoppable leaned forward and took a more gentle tone. "Ron, both your father and I had really overbearing, controlling parents, and we didn't want to be like that. We wanted you to be able to live your own life. But after seeing that interview I realized we could stand to be a little more involved."

"Fine, be involved, but mom: do you really want to hear how we were almost blown to bits, or that the only reason I wasn't flattened to a pancake was Kim diving in after me and hooking me to her chute?"

Mrs. Stoppable closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, maybe I don't need to know all the details, but you could tell me _something_."

"Mom, I-"

Ron was interrupted by their waiter arriving with their orders. "Chutney Chicken for the lady," he said as he placed the plate on the table, "and Filet Mignon for Mr. Stoppable. Bon appetit." He left the table.

"Well, this sure looks good," Ron said, trying to steer the conversation somewhere, anywhere, else.

Mrs. Stoppable realized this was as far as she could get with Ron at this point. She decided to give him a breather and soften him up before getting serious again. And the food really did look and smell delicious.

"My God, this is good," Mrs. Stoppable sighed. She looked at Ron. "How's yours?"

"Pretty good. It'd be better with some Diablo Sauce."

"You can't be serious? There's more to food than fast food, and I'm being generous applying the term to what you usually eat."

"Hey, it's got nutrients and... stuff."

"It's the 'stuff' that's worrisome."

"I don't eat rabbit food, and they don't drive my car."

"Really, now," Mrs. Stoppable said and sighed. Sometimes she felt Ron's diet was more dangerous than his missions. "So, how's your first year in College been?" she asked, changing the subject yet again.

"Pretty good, I guess. I'm passing all my classes."

"That's good. Is Kimberly helping you?"

"Yeah. We don't really share that many classes but she helps me when I have trouble."

"I bet she does," Mrs. Stoppable grinned.

"Yeah, she's good at that," Ron said. Then he realized what his mother meant, and flustered: "No, I didn't mean-! Studying! She's good at studying!"

"Relax, I'm just teasing you."

Ron stayed silent for a moment, then he smiled and said: "Besides, that's what study breaks are for."

The two shared a chuckle and a smile.

"So, what else did you have planned for today?"

"Well..."

"Please, Ron, just this once, tell me something."

Finally Ron acquiesced. "Okay, I'm not sure if you know this, but this year it'll be fifteen years since me and KP met."

"Really? Fifteen years?"

"Yup."

"Wow, time really does fly."

"And I was going to take Kim to where we first met."

"Didn't you guys meet in kindergarten?"

"Pre-kindergarten, yeah. Under the big tree in the yard."

"Aww, that's so sweet that you remember."

"And then I'm going to... ask her something."

"Ronald, don't tell me your going to propose? Because you're way too young to-"

"Mom! I'm not going to propose."

"Good."

"But I don't see what the big deal is even if I did," Ron said and raised his hand to stifle the already forming protest he could sense from his mother. "What I was going to ask, was if she would accept a, uh, promise ring."

"Promise ring?"

"Yeah. I realize we're not ready to think about marriage, but I want her to know that if and when the time is right, I _am_ going ask her to marry me."

"I- I don't know how to feel about that."

"I thought you were happy about us dating?"

"I am, I really am, but this talk of marriage seems kinda abrupt."

"I've known her for fifteen years. Some people get married after fifteen minutes."

"I know. It's just that... to me you're still my little Ronnie."

"Aww, mom."

The waiter returned to gather their dishes and to get their dessert orders.

Ron motioned towards the empty area and the tables that had been moved aside and piled up. "What's up with the tables?"

"The owner, Mr. Wendell, is having a private gathering tomorrow. His guests love to dance, so he told us to clear some room for a dance floor."

"Oh, okay."

"So, have you decided on dessert?"

"I'll just have some vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce," Ron said.

"Ice cream, really?" Mrs. Stoppable asked.

"Their ice cream is _really_ good."

"In that case, I'll have the same."

"Very good," the waiter said and disappeared once again.

Mrs. Stoppable glanced towards the dance floor.

"Ronald, can you dance?" she asked.

Ron's spidey sense was tingling. "Uh, why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, there happens to be a dance floor with plenty of room."

"And?" Ron played dumb. He knew what his mother was driving at, and it wasn't pleasant.

"Come on, Ronnie, dance with me. I haven't danced in ages."

"I'll pass."

"Ronald Dean Stoppable, you dance with your mother right now," Mrs. Stoppable ordered.

Try as he might, Ron couldn't find a way out of it without hurting his mother, so he gave in. He slumped in defeat as his mother smiled victoriously.

The waiter arrived with their ice creams. As he was about to leave, Mrs. Stoppable stopped him.

"Yes, Mrs. Stoppable? I hope everything is satisfactory?"

"Everything is more than satisfactory."

"I'm happy to hear that."

"You said you were going to have people dancing here tomorrow? Do you think you could arrange for some dance music?"

"Well, I can't get a band in here at this short notice," he said with a smile, "but I think we can work something out."

"That would be amazing."

"No, what is amazing is your smile."

Mrs. Stoppable blushed, and with a satisfied smile on his face the waiter walked off.

"Ugh," Ron voiced his displeasure.

"Oh, hush you. You could take some lessons on how to behave like a gentleman."

Ron ate his ice cream in brooding silence.

Just as he was finishing his last spoonful he heard music. He looked towards the clearing and saw the source of the music: big PA speakers that a couple of the restaurant workers had brought out. He was wondering how much of the effort was just them being helpful, and how much was the waiter's attempt to impress his mother.

"Ron?" Mrs. Stoppable said. She had stood up and was next to Ron offering her hand.

Ron sighed heavily. "Fine, let's get this over with," he said and took his mother's hand and stood up.

"You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, don't you."

"I haven't heard Kim complain. Too much."

After a clumsy start, the mother and son waltzed away as the other patrons watched. Some were encouraged to take to the floor themselves.

"You're not that bad," Mrs. Stoppable said.

"Kim taught me."

"Does she like to dance?"

"Yeah. Though mostly we just slow dance. I prefer that."

They bumped into another couple and Ron heard a familiar sounding snap.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry, I- Shego?"

"Ron?"

"The buffoon?"

The couple Ron and his mom had bumped into was none other than Drakken and Shego, former arch enemies of Kim Possible.

Shego looked at them with her usual sardonic smirk. "If it isn't blonde and blonder. Don't tell me you've called it quits with little Miss Priss? Though, I have to say you've traded up. So, Ron, who's Mrs. Robinson?"

"That's my mom, Shego."

"You're joking," Shego said in disbelief.

"You're out on a date with your _mommy_?" Drakken laughed.

Shego turned to him. "And who was the one who had to convince _your_ mother not to tag along on _our_ dates?"

Drakken drooped his head in defeat. "You were."

Shego smirked and turned back to the Stoppables, giving Mrs. Stoppable a once-over. "Well, looks like your gene pool isn't completely hopeless. Your kids may actually stand a chance. Though, if I were you, I'd have another one just to be sure, since this one seems like a reject."

With that, Shego lead Drakken away, laughing.

"Sorry about that, mom. They're not evil anymore, but they're still pains in the butt."

Ron noticed his mother staring at him, her eyes glistening.

"Mom, you're not upset about what Shego said, are you?"

"No, it's not that," she shook her head, closing her eyes.

"Just say the word and I'll have them thrown out."

She hugged Ron. "Please don't. It's not her fault." She pulled back a little and put her hands on his cheeks.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you shouldn't even exist, and yet, here you are. And I thank God for that every day."

"What are you talking about, mom?"

"Your father and I can't have children. They told us it was a million to one shot we had you. You're my little miracle," Mrs. Stoppable said, a single tear rolling lazily down her cheek.

"Why haven't you told me this before?"

"It's not so easy to talk about, Ronnie. I always wanted more children, and for years we tried having a second one."

"So, that's why-"

"Yes. We talked about it for a long time, and finally your father and I decided to adopt."

Ron suddenly felt his head drop, being unable look his mother in the eye.

"What?"

"I just... I'm so sorry for giving you so much grief over Hana. If I'd known-"

"Then you might have never sorted out your real feelings towards her."

"I-"

"Shh.."

Mrs. Stoppable embraced her son. "You're my only son, and I'm so very proud of you."

When they finally returned to their table, there were many couples on the dance floor.

They didn't see Shego and Drakken again.

≈O≈

Ron and his mother stood on their driveway. While driving back from the restaurant he had gotten a call from Kim that she had finally been able to come back home. He was now saying good-bye to his mother before going back to the campus.

"I had fun," Ron said. He was being sincere. She had been right: some mother-son time was exactly what he had needed.

"Me, too. Now go see Kim."

Ron was about leave, but then he turned back. "Mom."

Looking his mother in the eye, he smiled and said: "I love you."

As Ron drove away, Mrs. Stoppable walked inside, wiping tears from her eyes. Her husband was inside waiting for her.

"Hi, Honey, I'm back," he greeted her cheerfully. Then he noticed the tears and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I was just out with Ronald," she replied with a sniffle.

"What did he do? I'll kick his keister!" Mr. Stoppable growled.

"No," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him and said: "He was just wonderful."

* * *

_The End_


End file.
